


forelsket

by klari19



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Flirting, Damen is Greek, First Meetings, Ice Skating, Laurent is French, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9071725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klari19/pseuds/klari19
Summary: “Rather than re-enacting Bambi, you should’ve told me you didn’t know how to do it…” Laurent murmured then, a hint of mocking in his voice and in the quirk of his lips and eyebrows.Damen’s ears felt like they’d caught fire, and he averted his gaze. “I, uh, well—”“And while it’s a pain in the ass, I guess I’ll just have to teach you,” Laurent cut Damen’s pathetic stutter, shrugging as he slipped his fingers between Damen’s with just a little bit of hesitation in his movements.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ahin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahin/gifts).



> **_Forelsket_** (Norwegian): The euphoria you experience when you’re first falling in love.
> 
> Dear Ahin, may you enjoy reading this silly little fic I wrote for you for the CaPri SS event!  
> I tried to add as many of the ideas you requested (fluff, long-haired Laurent, winter and ice skating), and I hope that the general theme and story will be to your liking! I had a ton of fun writing this, but still feel sad that I couldn't even slip Auguste in it ;; On a side-note, I realized somewhere back in November that you were into Yuuri!!! on Ice, so, obviously, this was discretely inspired by the series to try to tick a few more of your boxes... I hope I did well with it all! Happy holidays, and happy new year~
> 
> PS: I'm a strong believer of the "I-don't-give-a-f*ck-about-gender Laurent" headcanon... I hope you don't mind that I slid that in here.
> 
> On tumblr at a-kielon / kuroosthighz / clara-once-wrote

‘ _What am I doing here_ ,’ Damen thought to himself, eyes down and fixing his gloved hands, shoulders hunching under the weight of regret.

When Nikandros had first introduced him to the idea of learning to skate so that Damen could join the college’s hockey team—because it was so small that they (desperately) needed more people to join—Damen had agreed with a smile. But mostly as a joke. He never thought Nikandros would actually want to get him into it, much less get Damen to try to develop his nonexistent skills in _public_ because “ _the private rink is closed on Saturdays, the park will have to do. Sorry, Damen._ ”

Damen had to seriously question his recent life decisions. Namely, humoring his dear, very serious friend Nikandros by getting out of bed that morning. But said questioning was irrelevant now that he was sitting on a bench at said park, facing the small ice skating circuit that had been arranged near the chalet, waiting for his friend to show up and embarrass him. In public.

To get his mind off his regretful and pointless brooding, Damen gazed at the couples and families skating happily before him. He breathed a smile, blowing a puff of white air out of his nose as he did, wondering if it would be easy for him to get to move like that on the ice, or if it would be difficult. He had never even tried putting on a pair of skates before, after all.

Damen figured that with a bit of motivation he’d be able to do it. Maybe not perfectly like a professional figure skater, but at least decently enough like the people skating in front of him. That at least made the whole situation seem a lot less bad than it had seemed a few minutes back. ‘ _Yeah, it’s gonna be alright,_ ’ Damen thought.

Now all that remained was to wait for Nikandros to arrive, and as Damen checked his watch he realized his friend was running late. Clicking his tongue and shaking his head, he sat back and tried to relax on the bench as he began to feel the cold permeate through his heavy winter clothes from his prolonged inactivity.

The cold winter weather was the only thing Damen truly despised about the country he had chosen to attend college to, France. While there wasn’t much snow, which was a blessing, he liked the sights of the season in Paris, but the biting cold on his cheeks and the humidity clinging to his bones were truly uncomfortable. At least he’d managed to learn the language rather quickly after he’d arrived, almost as if he’d had a gift, which had helped him in successfully blending into the society hosting him.

Damen was thinking, eyes closed, about the fond memories he had of his beloved Greece, of how little he could wait to go back there on vacation, when he felt a shadow fall upon his frame, effectively cutting out the light of the sun filtering through the leaves and which was warming up, if only a little, Damen’s face.

Cracking an eye open, he investigated what was happening and was surprised to find the sight of—‘ _oh, oh God_ ’—the most beautiful person Damen had ever seen in his life. He blinked a few times, wondering if the gold of the person’s long and thin hair, the delicate fairness of their skin, the depth of their striking blue eyes were but a trick of the light, or his imagination. But they weren’t.

Damen gaped a little as he continued to stare at the newcomer, mesmerized by the stupendous sight in front of him and feeling like he’d been transported to another dimension—until the stranger’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“Hey, you. I’m talking to you,” they said in a flat, slightly annoyed voice.

Damen’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Me?” How could such a divine being be talking to _him_?

“Ah, so you do speak French.” The stranger rolled their eyes. “Yes, you. You’re massive and all, and probably diffuse a lot of heat, but by staying there and doing nothing you won’t notice the moment you get dangerously cold. You need to move,” they explained, as if talking to a 2-year-old.

“Oh,” Damen replied. He was completely smitten and didn’t really get what the other had said. “I’m sorry, I was distracted by your beautiful hair. What did you say?”

The other huffed. “I was talking to you about how to prevent getting hypothermia, but if you’re going to flirt with me without even knowing my name then I’m out of here.” And, in fact, the moment they finished speaking they turned on their heel and started walking away from Damen.

Damen was shocked for a split second, too impressed to react, until the reality of what had happened dawned on him. “Wait!” he exclaimed, scrambling off his seat, grabbing his bag in a second, and jogging to catch up to them. “I’m sorry for being so forward,” he offered in all sincerity, walking alongside the person and looking down at their profile—they were so small… or Damen was too tall. “But does that mean that if you give me your name you’ll allow me to flirt with you?”

He thought he saw the stranger’s lips curl up into a smile for a second, and his hopes shot right through the ceiling. But only for a second.

“Not at all,” they replied in a stern, cold tone, stopping in front of the metal railing of the small circuit and setting their forearms it.

Damen deflated a bit as he stood beside them, but he respected the stranger’s wishes. “That’s okay. I’ll introduce myself at least. I’m Damianos, but everybody calls me Damen.” He offered his hand out to them along with a warm smile.

The other looked down at Damen’s outstretched hand, then up into his eyes. Squaring their shoulders and setting their jaw, they closed their smaller, smoother fingers around Damen’s slightly calloused and broad palm. Damen couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the adorableness of this person’s proportions. He knew, though, that they’d certainly be angry at him if he ever admitted that.

“I’m Laurent,” the other replied, shaking Damen’s hand once before letting go of it.

“Pleased to meet you, Laurent,” Damen said. “And, I don’t mean to be rude, but would you mind telling me your pronouns? You don’t need to answer that if you don’t want to, though.”

“It’s whatever,” Laurent replied with a vague hand gesture. “I don’t care, honestly. I’m generally read as a man, so I guess that’s what I go by the most,” Laurent finished with a shrug.

Damen nodded, feeling his heart flutter a little at the fact that Laurent was sharing this kind of private information with him upon meeting him a mere fifteen minutes back. Damen really didn’t want to mess this up.

“Gotcha.” He offered Laurent a thumbs-up, and the latter shook his head a little, a breathy smile on his lips—which made Damen’s heart melt. “And I apologize for earlier. What were you saying about hypothermia?” He was really interested.

“If you don’t move, especially during long periods of time, you’ll freeze. It’s pretty simple,” Laurent said.

Damen hummed. “You seem to know a lot about that.” He grinned down at him, an eyebrow quirked.

“Well, uh, that’s mostly common knowledge,” Laurent’s brows furrowed a little as he side-eyed Damen. “But yeah, I’m a medicine student.”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Damen said, putting an elbow down on the railing and setting his chin into his palm to look at Laurent. “But I’m majoring in History so I wouldn’t know about that, I need you to give me the main clues.”

Laurent rolled his eyes again, but with what seemed to be a fond smile starting to form on his lips. Damen furiously debated between wanting to show that precious smile to the world, or keeping it only for himself.

“Alright. So, logically, what you have to do is move a lot. Or just move continuously,” Laurent explained as per Damen’s request.

“Have any idea how I could do that?” Damen asked innocently. “Doesn’t seem like walking would be enough.”

“Well,” Laurent replied, and moved his hand towards the expanse of ice in front of them. He didn’t need to make any more explanations to get the meaning across to Damen.

‘ _Oh, dear God_ ,’ Damen thought, feeling nervousness starting to creep up his spine. “Perfect,” he replied instead, keeping his smile steady.

As if Damen’s answer had prompted him to, Laurent immediately turned around to go sit down at one of the nearby benches, pulling his backpack into his lap and extracting his skates from it. Damen followed suit, albeit a little hesitantly, and mirrored Laurent.

“Those are…” Laurent trailed off softly, and Damen was suddenly aware that he was fixing the pair of skates Damen was holding, one in each hand. “Those are perfectly new ice hockey skates,” he finished, slight confusion mixing into his tone.

“Y-yeah,” Damen stuttered out. “Any problem with that?”

“Not really. They’re just—unsharpened,” Laurent deadpanned, matter-of-factly, as he pointed to the new, flat blades. “Which means that you’re either quite rich and changed them recently, or those are your first ever skates.”

Damen laughed nervously, avoiding the question by averting his gaze from Laurent’s and scratching the back of his head. Nikandros had forgotten to tell him about that little technical detail.

But Laurent brushed it off easily. “Come on,” he sighed, getting up in a graceful manner even with his skates on—he was a little taller now, too. “Let’s go to the chalet to get them sharpened.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Twenty minutes and a blade-sharpening later, Damen was back outside and lacing his skates while Laurent waited for him near the circuit’s entrance. (‘ _Nik still hasn’t arrived_ ,’ Damen thought, looking around for his friend, and finding himself unable to locate him.) And when Damen walked towards Laurent with the most unsteady, wobbling gait anyone had ever witnessed from an adult wearing skates, Laurent thankfully didn’t comment on it.

So it was with sweat already starting to trickle down his back, dampening the inside of his coat, that Damen slowly put a foot down on the ice while he gripped the railing for dear life.

He didn’t expect to slip on the smooth surface _so easily._

“Oop—! Fu…” Damen mumbled, his tone rising the moment he felt he’d lost the battle against gravity. But he hadn’t.

His own hand was still strongly attached to the metal railing to his right, and his left sleeve was being held into a death grip by none other than Laurent.

Damen gulped down and breathed yet another nervous laugh while righting himself and gently—oh, so gently—putting his other foot on the ice. Laurent kept his fingers curled into his sleeve all the way through it, watching him with such a neutral expression that Damen didn’t know if he was to feel offended by, or grateful for it.

Thinking back on how Damen had thought it would, at least, be simple to begin skating, he realized just how wrong he had been. ‘ _That’s what you get for being cocky,_ ’ Damen mentally reprimanded himself. ‘ _Now all that’s left is to hope that you don’t die right here and now by breaking your neck. Or by embarrassing yourself to death._ ’

“Rather than re-enacting Bambi, you should’ve told me you didn’t know how to do it…” Laurent murmured then, a hint of mocking in his voice and in the quirk of his lips and eyebrows.

Damen’s ears felt like they’d caught fire, and he averted his gaze. “I, uh, well—”

“And while it’s a pain in the ass, I guess I’ll just have to teach you,” Laurent cut Damen’s pathetic stutter, shrugging as he slipped his fingers between Damen’s with just a little bit of hesitation in his movements.

Damen’s eyes shot to where their hands were now united, staring at them wide-eyed for a moment until Laurent clicked his tongue to catch his attention.

“Come on,” Laurent pressured. “Don’t swoon on the ice and make me regret my decision.” But there was a light pink tint on his cheeks even as his voice was steady and severe. It could have been the cold though, but Damen wanted to be hopeful, and he nodded.

“Alright, alright. Tell me what to do.”

“Keep holding the railing and my hand like your life depended on it,” he said in all seriousness. And then, when he realized about what it could imply, “I—I mean—”

Damen grinned widely and gazed down at the now very-much-blushing Laurent beside him. “I will,” he replied softly.

Laurent seemed to grumble something into his scarf, but soon dropped the issue by instructing Damen to angle the tip of his feet to the outside and “push” on the ice. And Damen did as he was told. Or, at least, tried to.

The first minutes were a true Disaster On Ice what with Damen trying to slide his feet forward one at a time and loosing his balance, hence squawking rather loudly and crushing Laurent’s fingers between his own repeatedly. He was conscious of Laurent’s wincing each time Damen squeezed his hand, but for some reason he never complained.

After a while, though, with Laurent’s determined guiding and Damen’s fierce desire to succeed, they both began to sense that things were evolving. Damen’s legs no longer trembled as hard as they’d done at first, which allowed him to release the railing and use his right hand to balance himself a little better. His left had was still connected to Laurent’s.

“Remember to keep yourself hunched forward a little, knees bent and untensed, and try spreading your feet a bit more. Push a little harder, too,” Laurent instructed calmly, gazing down at Damen’s feet while keeping the ice ahead of them in the corner of his eye to ensure that they weren’t going head-first into someone else.

“Okay, okay,” Damen said through a smile, excitement starting to permeate through his words. “Laurent, I think I got it. Let me go.”

“Are you sure?” Laurent asked, dubious.

“Yep!”

Laurent released Damen’s hand at his command and let him drift forward ahead of him, looking rather uncertain all the while seeming to enjoy the sight.

Damen felt like he was flying as the cold air brushed his cheeks. It was simply amazing to think that his entire body was sliding forward with such ease on such a delicate-looking surface, only assisted by a pair of thin skates and a little force of his legs.

“Look, Laurent!” he exclaimed, craning his neck to look back at the other one. “No hands!”

And he didn’t care if he looked and sounded like a child. This was the most fun he’d had in ages—all thanks to Laurent, a stranger he’d met less than an hour back.

Laurent smiled back at him, small and reserved. But suddenly, his smile fell and his eyes widened in terror, his mouth opening in a silent shout and his hand reaching forward as if on instinct.

Damen had no time to process what all of that meant—only to understand it when he felt his front collide against a solid yet moving mass.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, you giant animal!” the person Damen had hit himself against exclaimed, tone raised in annoyance, as they swiftly skated away from him.

“M-my bad! Sorry!” Damen apologized in all honesty. Then, in a whisper, “Rude…”

It was then that Damen realized he was still sliding forward and that he didn’t have the slightest idea how to stop the impetus.

“Uh, Laurent,” he called, voice unsteady. “Help me, please!”

And Laurent was beside him in an instant—hiding his face in his hands as his shoulders shook.

“L-Laurent? Are you okay?” Damen asked, more concerned now about Laurent than about his own state. Laurent nodded at him without hesitation, offering out his hand for Damen to grab it again, and Damen understood then.

Laurent was, as astonishing as that might seem, trying to suppress a fit of laughter.

“Hey,” Damen said, a breathy laugh mixing with his voice in spite of himself while he took Laurent’s hand in his once more. “Whatever you’re laughing at, it’s not funny.”

“ _Giant animal_ ,” Laurent wheezed through the laughter bubbling in his throat, eyes closed from the pleasure.

“Oh my God,” Damen groaned, a smile pulling up the corners of his lips nonetheless.

They continued to slowly, peacefully glide on the ice for a while as the other people skated past them with much more speed, obviously far more experience than Damen was in the field. Hand in hand with Laurent, it was far easier for Damen to keep himself upright, but he felt like, by doing that, he was also keeping Laurent from truly enjoying himself on the ice.

With exhaustion starting to wear Damen off—who knew even doing ice skating “for fun” could be so tiring—Damen figured that it was a good opportunity for him to go sit down and let Laurent bask in the lowkey pleasure he seemed to hold for the sport. But when he told Laurent that, he thought that, for a moment, he saw something like sadness fall upon Laurent’s features. But as soon as Damen blinked, all trace of emotion was gone from Laurent’s face—and Damen had to ask himself if he’d imagined it.

“You know,” Laurent said then, averting his gaze, “I can drag you so you don’t have to keep struggling and wasting your energy.”

Damen blinked, a frown forming between his brows. He didn’t understand the logic of what Laurent had just said. “Wait—How. How would that work? How would you even—?”

“Have you ever seen someone skating backwards?” Laurent sighed, and turned to look at him with a slightly exasperated and mocking expression. “Gosh, seems like that head of yours is as thick as it looks.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice when he said that, though.

“Excuse me?!” Damen brought his free hand to his chest, blinking down at Laurent. Beside him, Laurent seemed to be preventing himself from smiling by biting his lips. “Anyway, you can do that?”

Instead of answering, Laurent released Damen’s hand—causing him to panic for half a second—and skated a little ahead of him. In one swift motion of his feet, he was facing a very impressed Damen.

“Cool,” Damen murmured while grabbing Laurent’s extended hands. “That’s—super amazing.”

This time Damen did see Laurent’s cheeks flush a brighter red, and he tried not to smile at the sight in front of him—in vain.

Now that they were face to face, though, with Laurent moving his feet with incredible ease to keep them sliding on the ice, it felt like the most absolutely awkward situation anyone could have ever been in. Two grown up adults facing each other, skating together without speaking a word to one another… Damen was sweating even more now, eager to engage in a conversation with Laurent but unable to find anything to say.

“Uhh, um…” Damen hummed just to ease down the tension between the two of them. Then he let his mouth speak without even processing the words in his brain, “How come you’re so good at this?”

Laurent looked to the side, eyes downcast and expression grim. Damen gulped. ‘ _Is that too much of a personal question?_ ’ he wondered worriedly, raking his brain for an alternative. But when he was about to say something else, Laurent’s voice rose softly.

“My… Uncle, um.” Laurent cleared his throat, as if the words were difficult to put together—Damen would have never thought to see Laurent ever having difficulty to speak his mind. “He made me train for competitive figure skating since I was little.” He paused, as if hesitating to continue, then seemed to come to a decision with himself. “Well, ‘forced me’ would be a better choice of words… It’s—complicated,” Laurent finished in a small voice, a bitter smile pulling at the corner of this lips.

Damen silently considered Laurent’s words for a moment. He didn’t know what had happened in Laurent’s past for him to end up struggling so much to even vaguely evoke it in the present, but he sensed that is must have been—something.

Unable so come up with a comforting vocal response, Damen gently squeezed Laurent’s hands in his, trying to transmit his sympathy through that simple gesture. He was surprised to meet a stare as cold and as hard as steel when Laurent’s gaze came up to his—not in anger, though, but with wholehearted determination.

“It’s fine, though. I ended up quitting and now I only do it when I feel like it,” Laurent said.

“I’m impressed that you haven’t completely abandoned it,” Damen replied. He really was impressed by that fact. If Damen ever had a difficult experience, his normal response would be to distance himself from anything related to it. Laurent’s modus operandi, though, had been the exact contrary.

“It’s just…” Laurent whispered, averting his gaze once more, this time looking thoughtful. “It’s a lot of fun,” he said, turning back to look at Damen with a glint in his eyes.

Damen smiled at him. “I can see tha—aah _fuck!_ ”

The world suddenly spun in in slow motion around Damen, and he felt his entire body go tense as he felt himself loose balance and topple back, legs trying to keep him upright. His hands naturally went to hold on to whatever would help him stand, and what a happy coincidence was it that Damen was already gripping Laurent’s hands in his.

What his brain didn’t consider in its calculations when he pulled onto Laurent’s hands was—

“ _Ooph,_ ” Damen huffed, fixing the sky above when all the air in his lungs was expelled by, one, his back hitting the ice rather harshly, and two, a mass falling heavily onto his chest.

After the initial shock and slight daze were gone from his mind, Damen soon realized that something was tickling his nose. And when he looked down he was met with a pair of stunning blue eyes framed by curtains of smooth golden hair.

“Hey,” Damen said, a stupid grin pulling up the corners of his lips. He was starting to realize that Laurent was even more beautiful up-close.

“Hey,” Laurent replied. However, he wasn’t smiling. “Did you hit your head?”

Damen hummed softly, “Not sure, actually.” His smile became bigger while Laurent’s frown became more concerned. “I know I literally fell. For you. If you know what I mean.”

The worry in Laurent’s features vanished in an instant, and he ducked his head to hide his abashed and unbelieving smile into Damen’s chest. “At least you don’t seem to have a concussion,” Damen heard Laurent mumble, his voice muffled by Damen’s coat.

A second later, Laurent was sliding off Damen’s body and kneeling beside him. It was all over too soon for Damen, who would have wanted to stay like that for a few minutes—hours—more. But he realized that was probably for the best since they were jamming a small portion of the skating circuit. And the ice was cold, too.

When Damen finished standing up with Laurent’s help, they both made their way to the side to rest against the railing, having silently come to the agreement that they would soon be exiting the ice.

Mirroring Laurent’s gesture and leaning back against the railing, Damen took a moment to think back on what had happened in the past hour or so.

Laurent had invited him to skate, after Damen had begun by flirting with him, and taught him how to make his first steps. Laurent had laughed at the terrible nickname Damen had received by an annoyed fellow skater. Laurent had confessed a small part of his past to Damen, a stranger he had just met. Laurent had fallen on top of Damen and smiled at Damen’s—confession??

Damen flushed, and his palms became damp inside his coat pockets. ‘ _I—I confessed to Laurent?! I mean, it was kind of obvious, but still! What’s he thinking about that? Did he even take it seriously?_ ’ Looking to the side, slight worry overtaking his senses, he found the profile of a seemingly conflicted Laurent—brows furrowed, eyes downcast and fixing the ice at his feet, lips pinched in a tight line and cheeks flushed.

“Laurent… Are you okay?” Damen asked softly, as if scared that Laurent would be frightened if he spoke louder. Damen couldn’t help but raise a hand to brush the long hair away from Laurent’s face and tuck it behind his ear, earning himself a gentle gasp from Laurent.

“I—” Laurent began, expression unreadable. But when he opened his mouth to say something else…

“ _Damianos!_ ” someone shouted from afar. “For the love of God, Damen, stop flirting and come here right now!”

Damen closed his eyes and sighed when he recognized the reprimanding tone of his dear friend, Nikandros, making a public embarrassment out of Damen. He felt even more mortified—but blessed, too—at the sound of Laurent’s soft laughter. Though, Damen knew what his friend was capable of, and if he didn’t comply to his request—

“Laurent,” Damen said, determination slipping into his tone. “Please come with me to the benches and give me your number. I—I really feel like… us… this…” he drifted off, unable to find the words to explain what he felt inside.

“I know. Somehow, I feel it, too,” Laurent smiled—an honest, beautiful smile. And Damen’s heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling like an idiot. “I mean, good. I mean—”

“ _Damianos!_ ”

“Damn you, Nik,” Damen muttered under his breath. “So, yes?” he said to Laurent, hope and joy and a ton other emotions overflowing inside his chest.

“Yeah. I think we shouldn’t keep your friend waiting any longer, though,” Laurent replied, slipping his hand into Damen’s and moving to start making their way to the entrance, a small smile still playing on his lips.

“Sure, yeah. You’re absolutely right,” Damen said, feeling himself fall harder with each second passing.

Laurent was an enigma—something like a chest sealed tightly and whose key had been stored away in the darkest corner of a basement, left to be forgotten for all eternity, for the secrets it held were too difficult to bear.

But Damen wanted Laurent to find that key once more and, if he trusted him enough, give it to him. He wanted to bear some of Laurent’s burdens, wanted to share his pain and understand what he’d gone through, and maybe, hopefully, help him in what was left of his recovery.

Damen wanted to see the world through Laurent’s eyes, see the brightness and darkness of it, see its beautiful landscapes and twisted battlefields.

He was ready to give his heart to Laurent and adore him for all he was and much more, if he was okay with that... And not even Nikandros’ annoyed expression and disapproving stare would make him reconsider his decision.

“By the way,” Laurent began, “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this but… You can’t get hypothermia unless you get, like, really cold,” he murmured when they were close to the exit.

Damen barked a laugh at that. “Doesn’t take a scientist’s mind to know that, Laurent.”

Turning to look at Damen, Laurent quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. “And you still—went with it?”

“Yeah… Though I have to admit it’s a weird way to flirt with someone.” Damen rubbed hi chin with his free hand, trying to seem thoughtful, and heard Laurent sigh by his side. “Maybe I should teach you more about that…” Damen said then, leaning close to Laurent’s face and wiggling his brows—only to get himself shoved away by a sheepish Laurent.

Damen was deeply taken with Laurent, and he was sure Laurent also felt something for him. He knew that there truly was no going back now, for neither of them.

Oh, he couldn’t wait to tell Nikandros about this.


End file.
